pokebox | murdergame voicetesting with nin!

murdergame voicetesting with nin!

[The room you wake up in is not your own. In fact, you may not have been sleeping at all before you're suddenly waking up in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. The bed isn't terribly uncomfortable, but it certainly isn't the nicest thing either; it's a standard cot, surrounded by the towering stone walls of your room. There's a wooden desk with a plain key on it, a simple chair, and a mirror, but absolutely nothing else. No decorations, nothing to indicate where you are or how you got here, and certainly no answers.

Should you leave the room and start exploring, you'll find that you're in some sort of fortress. A medieval one, from the looks of it, given that there's no technology to be found anywhere and the laundry room involves no actual laundry machines. The front doors are sealed off with some sort of magic sigil and guarded by two hulking suits of armor that stand ominously in the way. They won't react if talked to or poked, but you get the distinct feeling that they're watching you...

The other rooms are about what you'd expect - a kitchen and dining room fit for function rather than fashion, an armory that is strangely empty aside from some training dummies, a war room that is really just a round table and chairs, and a small library. Not the most exciting thing in the world, but that's likely intentional.

After all, in the foyer there are two very important pieces of information behind unbreakable glass: the first are the rules, written in a flowing hand and dark ink with the usual rules - including one notable one about killing for your freedom. Beside it is a second set of information and pictures: profiles of all the Soldiers brought into this little game, it would seem.

Enjoy your stay in the Fortress; the General will be watching you.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

And what is the Pale?

[Though given the other man's look, this answer should also be obvious. Not that Yeager minds, and he delivers the question with all of his usual cheer... though that does raise some questions about what this guy would recognize, doesn't it?]

Uh—

Did you forget all reality too?

[He scratches at the back of his head.]

The pale is everywhere on the planet. It surrounds the isolas— continents of matter. It's not possible to measure it, just what surrounds it; the porch collapse. Whatever it consumes is gone into nothingness.

Aerostatics can fly inside of the Pale, though exposure can be... bad. People don't fly to other isolas very frequently, as a result.

[Yeager listens to all of that in silence and then, once Harry's done, he claps his hands.]

I don't understand it at all!

[i'm so sorry]

But! Humor me and answer a couple of questions for me, ja? Are you familiar with blastia? Dahngrest and the Guild Union?

[He's going somewhere with this, probably.]

I can't say I am.

[Said honestly, and without hesitation.]

But that doesn't really mean much. There's a lot of things I don't remember.

Ah, it may not mean much to you, but it means a lot to me. Just like my understanding - or lack thereof - of such things is confusing to you, ja?

Not a single person where I come from would be unaware of blastia or the guilds. Even if you hit your head, you would have heard about them within five minutes, even if you were somewhere in the Empire!

[Exactly what it means is... kind of unsettling, the more he thinks about it.]

The Empire?

[Yeah, that's not familiar at all. He's never heard of the Coalition called something like that before. He would have been told about something like that.]

I've never been outside of Revachol.

Ja. So as you can see, we're from completely different places. Where I'm from, the guilds and the Empire are the only civilizations at all.

[So that's. Something. Probably something he should be more worried about than he actually is, but Yeager shrugs.]

Regardless of what that means, it would seem we're both out of our depth here...

[He pauses and glances back at the profiles again.]

Mr. Bois? Or is it Mr. Du Bois?

[We have "von Cumore" so he kind of has an understanding of surnames like this??]

[The face he makes at "Mr. Bois" makes it pretty obvious it's "Du Bois", but as soon as he's recovered—]

Harry is fine.

[a beat later]

You're really not from Elysium?

[He's here to inflict suffering and psychic damage on everyone! ☆]

Ja, that's correct. I've never heard of it before.

It's the Dolorian name for the world.

[Which sort of implies there was a time when his world didn't have a name, but he doesn't seem to dwell on it.]

I always thought aliens would look... alien. Like one of Kim's sci-fi books.

Aliens?

[What the fuck's an alien, we definitely don't have any giant sea cucumber aliens(?) to worry about at any point—]

Our world is called Terca Lumireis. So it would seem that we're from entirely different worlds!

[Some...how. Don't think too hard about it.]

Yeah, aliens.

You're not from Elysium, so you must be an alien.

[He is entirely okay with this. His tone is that of someone meeting a new neighbor for the first time. There's no real wonder to it, just someone accepting it for what it is.

Well, okay he is kind of excited to learn more about Tecra Lumireis, but the notion that he's speaking to an alien doesn't lead into three hundred new questions or anything.]

[That... didn't really answer his question of what an alien is, but sure, he can accept that they're just someone from a different world! Apparently that's a thing where you're from! Wild!!]

Well, anyway! [Moving right along!!] Let's see what else this place has to offer us, ja?

[What more do you want from him?? You're not from the same planet as him, therefore, aliens! This is perfectly logical.]

Right. Yes. We still need to understand what's going on.

[So he just. Stomps off towards the library without another word.]

[Off we go! Yeager follows along, because of course he does.

The library isn't exactly all that impressive; it's rather small, with only a few shelves, some chairs and tables, and nothing really interesting. The books all seem to be really trashy fiction, of all things?? You've got the worst thrillers you've ever read, bodice-rippers, and terrible murder mysteries, among other such trash that probably won't prove all that useful.

Yeager flips through a few in silence before sighing.]

The selection is dreadful...

[And then there's Harry. A decorated police officer, who has found one of those trashy thrillers and has read through five pages in the span of as many minutes.]

Who reads this stuff?

[He says, having not put it back on the shelf.]

Nobody knows how actual police work happens. Don't these writers do research?

[You look suspiciously into that, Mr. Bois.........]

It would seem that they didn't bother! At least, from the ones I was looking at.

[Unsurprisingly, he pockets the book.]

Is it really all fiction? Not much of a library.

It is rather small...

[Though admittedly, he spends a lot of time in Aspio, city of ~~nerds~~ scholars, so he's used to much larger libraries. People even sleep on giant books there!!]

Well, let's keep going, ja? Surely there's something else of interest here.

Yeah. Of course.

[So off they go to the armory! Where Harry is immediately disappointed, because there's absolutely nothing interesting in here.

Well, maybe that's for the best. What with those ominous rules...

Anyway, he wanders up to the training dummy curiously.]

I've never seen anything like this.

[He's silent for a moment, running his hand against it. There's a long pause before he speaks again.]

What is this?

[Given the way Yeager lights up when they walk in, it seems Harry's not alone in that. He's quick to go searching through the display cases and weapon racks for absolutely anything of value but... yeah, there's nothing here. Absolutely no actual weapons, and no practice weapons either.

Yeager circles back around the room, looking a bit put-out, when he hears the question.]

You don't know? It's an armory - though I suppose now it's more of a training room, since there aren't any weapons to be found...

[Hmm! The training dummies look sturdy, at least, and Yeager walks over to get a better look at those. Yep, they'd definitely hold up well to a good old fashioned Tales training session, so at least there's that. If he had his weapon, which of course he doesn't.]

[He's silent for a long moment, bringing a hand to his mouth.]

Armories don't look like this.

[He looks around the room again, frowning.]

Budget is shit, so the RCM's isn't big, but it has gun cabinets. Storage for defensive vests, such as they are. That sort of thing. This is just... nothing. Besides the weird mannequins.

Training dummies.

[He corrects it absently as he considers the rest of that. What good would vests do for defense???]

It's certainly closer to what an armory would look like where I'm from, although the lack of weapons certainly is a bit disappointing...

[Maybe if he was Yuri Lowell he'd give the training dummy a punch before leaving, but Yeager doesn't use his fists to fight. Alas.]

Tell me about your guns, though! We don't have very many in Terca Lumireis; they're a relatively new technology.

Training dummies? Sounds like something out of a fantastique.

[They're probably in Wurral... hm. Something to ask Kim later.

As for the guns, he rubs at the back of his head again.]

I don't know what to tell you. They're just... guns. RCM ones are all front-loaders, three bullets max. You can find broken down jacketed breach-loaders from the Revolution, but they don't make bullets for those anymore. And there are mercs who have automatic weapons. They're terrifying things.

[A shiver passes over him. He's definitely talking from personal experience.]

I hope I never see them again.

[............]

Bullets?

[YOU LOST HIM LIKE TWO SECONDS IN, SORRY BUDDY]

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